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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409722">The Trouble With (Mourning) Tribbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat/pseuds/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat'>two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Star Trek Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s02e13 The Trouble With Tribbles, Gen, Pets, Prompt Fill - Pets/Pet Adoption, Star Trek Bingo 2020, Wakes &amp; Funerals, but like...</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:48:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat/pseuds/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ve vill never forget Adonias,” said Chekov. “Ada, Adam, Billiam, Beyonce. Bongwater. Chekov ze Second, Chekov ze Third, Pavel, Heekaru, Diner Two, Diner Three, Little Uhura, Russia, Smash Mouth, Dana, I-Chaya ze Second, Spock Junior…” </p><p>Kirk slipped a glance to his PADD, hidden safely in his coat pocket. </p><p>They were only fifteen minutes into the official ceremony. </p><p>This was going to be a long night. </p><p>(Prompt Fill: Pets/Pet Adoption)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Star Trek Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Trouble With (Mourning) Tribbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started out as crack and then it kinda. Became angst?? And now we're back to crack again. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was, if he was being completely honest, the most beautiful funeral Kirk had ever been to.</p><p> </p><p>Which really was saying something, for a number of reasons: The first being that he had, regrettably, been to quite a few funerals over the span of his thirty-four years. But also, in a lighter sense, because it was a funeral for tribbles, a group of creatures Kirk hadn’t even known existed until about a day ago.</p><p> </p><p>They were small, fuzzy, troublesome little beasts. But really, it wasn’t their fault. It was just how they were built. And how could Uhura and Chekov had known, upon bringing the purring fuzzballs aboard their ship, that they would multiple exponentially the moment they ate? It wasn’t the tribbles’ fault at all, nor the crew members, really. The crew had loved the tribbles. Everyone had one (and then, two, and four, and sixteen, and on and on and on - it was one of the occupational hazards of owning a tribble). And it was nice, to have pets.</p><p> </p><p>Until said pets got into the replicator. And down in engineering. And all over the bridge, and in the rec rooms, and the hallways, and the turbolifts, and… well, they were problematic. And dying. Which should have been easy to deal with, because, well, now at least their lives on-ship could return back to normal. They could all fall back into their pre-tribble rhythm, and that would be good. Right?</p><p> </p><p>But the crew had adopted pets, even if they’d only had these pets for a day or two, max.</p><p> </p><p>And now all of the pets were dead, and that was something that was hard to deal with.</p><p> </p><p>So they held a funeral.</p><p> </p><p>It started with Chekov and Uhura deciding to put on a ceremony for their beloved pets (named Beyonce, Fluffy, and Spock Junior respectively) and it just grew and grew from there.</p><p> </p><p>There were 400 crew members aboard the Starship Enterprise, and every last one of them had owned at least one tribble, at some point or another. Which meant that there were approximately 400 mourning crew members who needed a way to remember and honor their pets.</p><p> </p><p>And so, the funeral grew.</p><p> </p><p>Kirk didn’t really feel the same attachment to the fuzzy little creatures that most of the other crew members did, but he understood the pain they felt.</p><p> </p><p>Bones had joked that he and tribbles had a lot in common.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re both bisexual,” he’d said, “and quite soft and cuddly.”</p><p> </p><p>Bones had gone on to mention other attributes, he’s sure, though Kirk’s forgotten most of them, now. Kirk had thought it was a ridiculous comparison.</p><p> </p><p>But now Bones is mourning along with the rest of them, and Kirk isn’t sure what to do. Bones doesn’t mourn (at least, not that Kirk’s seen - he’s pretty sure that Bones tries to keep that sort of thing private), and he certainly doesn’t mourn the deaths of pets, no matter how lovable. Tribbles were troublemakers, even if they didn’t intend it. And yet, here Bones was, standing beside Kirk, in formalwear, of all things, as if this was the funeral of some grand Starfleet officer.</p><p> </p><p>The funeral opened with music. It took Kirk a moment to notice who was the source - and when he did, he should have known just how serious an affair this was intended to be. Because it was Spock, <em>Spock, </em>of all people, who had volunteered to play at the funeral, and Uhura accompanied him with vocals (though this was less surprising; everyone knew how attached she’d been, to the tribbles). Kirk watched Spock’s fingers pluck away at the lyre. His eyes were closed, which Kirk thought was odd. Spock wasn’t one to get lost in his music, no matter how great a musician he was. But then Kirk realized that Spock’s eyes weren’t closed because he was focusing on his part; they were shut to hide the emotion that would have been prevalent otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly and carefully, crew members began to file into the room where the service was being held. They’d decided on one of the observation decks, since it was large and open and could easily be turned into a venue for such things (they’d had parties there before, once even an expansive game of the popular Earth board game Monopoly, with a few rules changed here and there and over one hundred boards involved). Kirk could see where Uhura and Chekov and some of the others who’d been involved in the original conception of the funeral had pulled out rows and rows of chairs for people to sit; of course, these were already beginning to fill up, and people were starting to squeeze in standing wherever they could. Some of the younger crew members sat on the ground, in the front - he could see a few kids from engineering, some of Spock’s teenaged coworkers from the science labs, and even a handful of security officers.</p><p> </p><p>Kirk wondered, briefly, how everyone on ship was meant to cram into this small observation deck. Because, although it was one of the larger of the observation decks, it wasn’t made to house <em>all 400 </em>of the crew aboard the Enterprise. Already, he could see people standing out the door, down the long hallway. They waited like that for what felt like hours, though Kirk wasn’t sure exactly how long it had actually been. Uhura and Spock continued to serenade them until it seemed all of the crew members had arrived and settled in. They’d already played through fifteen songs by that time, and Kirk noticed that they had started to loop some of their old ones, and even made up a few on the fly here and there. But finally, they stopped, and there was a moment of quiet as the chatter in the room died down.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere behind Spock and Uhura, Chekov rose from his seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you all for coming here tonite,” he said, solemnly. “Bevore ve begin ze ceremony, may I request a moment of silence from you all?”</p><p> </p><p>The crowd did not respond, though a few people did nod, here and there.</p><p> </p><p>“Ve vill begin eet now.”</p><p> </p><p>Kirk watched as Chekov held his head low, looking to the ground, and the others around him did the same. It was a ripple effect through the room, out into the hallway, past where Kirk could comfortably see, an endless ocean of people as a wave of lowered heads passed through them. Bones elbowed Kirk, hissing at him to do the same. So Kirk did. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do - he’d been to funerals before, yes, more than he could count, but this wasn’t quite like anything he’d ever encountered. There was a sense of mourning, yes, a deep and cutting grief. But it was all new. It was shared amongst 400 people, and the mourning was arranged by the most unlikely people - Spock being the largest surprise of the bunch - and it wasn’t the most traditional affair. He wasn’t sure what to think.</p><p> </p><p>He held his head low, and he waited, and listened. And when Chekov’s voice rang out through the silence with, “Thank you,” he lifted his head, and the others did the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Ve are gathered here, this ewening, to mourn ze loss of some of ze most loyal, loving creatures known to zis ship. I know all of you can attest to zis fact - each person here knows, personally, the love zese tribbles gave us over the courses of their lives, and how much ve, in return, attempted to reciprocate zeir affection. Zese tribbles, zese fuzzy, loving creatures, have touched each and every one of our hearts.” He cleared his throat; He was just an ensign, Kirk understood, still not quite used to speaking in front of so many people, even if they were his coworkers and, at this point in time, effectively his closest family and friends. Chekov straightened himself, brushing a tear from his eye. “Each one of you has submitted a list of names,” he said, softly. “You have sent in a list of names of tribbles you knew, worked with, loved, cherished, and admired. And now, eye vill read out ze names of ze fallen.” Chekov said this with more seriousness than Kirk had expected from such an event - but, then again, this entire affair had grown more and more formal as it had gone on, more and more important and serious and so full of dedication and love.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he really going to read off all of their names?” Kirk muttered to Bones.</p><p> </p><p>In response, Bones kicked him in the shin, told him to shut his pie hole.</p><p> </p><p>“Ve vill never forget Adonias,” said Chekov. “Ada, Adam, Billiam, Beyonce. Bongwater. Chekov ze Second, Chekov ze Third, Pavel, Heekaru, Diner Two, Diner Three, Little Uhura, Russia, Smash Mouth, Dana, I-Chaya ze Second, Spock Junior…”</p><p> </p><p>Kirk slipped a glance to his PADD, hidden safely in his coat pocket.</p><p> </p><p>They were only fifteen minutes into the official ceremony.</p><p> </p><p>This was going to be a <em>long</em> night.</p><p> </p><p>The reading of the tribble names went on for hours. Respects were payed to Fluffy, Fluffy The Second, Fluffy the Third, Fluffy The Fourth, Fluffy The Fifth, Fluffy The Sixth, Fluffy The Seventh, Fluffy The Eighth, Fluffy The Ninth, Fluffy The Tenth, and Fluffy The Eleventh, and Fluffles. Kirk listened as Chekov listed off Snowball, Snowman, Horny Bastard, Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Way, Mister Kyle This One Looks Like You!, Ashaya, Kan-bu, Edward, Bella, Jacob, Renesme, Jim and Goldie. He was surprised to hear that so many had Vulcan names. Spock was the only Vulcan on the ship, and the only person aside from Uhura who was fluent in the language. So he knew it was between the two of them, the sheer number of tribbles given Vulcan names, and based on the enormous number, he knew that a fair amount must have been credited to Spock.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, the name-reading ended. Kirk looked around; there were tears in some of his coworkers eyes. Personally, he wasn’t sure how he felt. The tribbles had caused him nothing but trouble, and yet someone had named on after him. He wasn’t sure if it was Bones or Spock who’d done it, but he thought it must have been between the two; he planned on asking about it later. Vulcans, at least in theory, could not lie. Hopefully Spock would clue him in, if nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>Once more, Chekov stood before them to make a small speech.</p><p> </p><p>“Vhen I vas a child, my mother told me zhat love, friendship, was inwented in Russia. But now, I understand zhat zhis is not true; Love vas inwented in ze tribbles, and so I send off ze tribbles vith love in my hearts, as I know it rests in zeirs.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a trembling beside him, and Kirk looked up to find Bones practically bawling.</p><p> </p><p>Kirk wanted to tell him, “Get it together man!” or something similar, but to do so would have been hypocritical - Kirk was crying, too, now, bright wet tears falling from his eyes. Upon further inspection, the only one not crying in the room appeared to be Spock. But Vulcans did not cry - Kirk knew this now that he was dating one. Vulcans did not cry, but instead, their lips and hands trembled, and their eyes got a little bit larger than normal, and they found themselves giving answers with more syllables than usual. And right now, Spock’s hands were shaking, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his lyre.</p><p> </p><p>Next there was an art tribute. Nurse Chapel, Yeoman Rand, and Sulu all rose from their seats to present works of art (and in Sulu’s case, a stunning flower arrangement that Kirk had the feeling was comprised of highly illegal and highly dangerous plants) to honor the dead. Kirk was surprised to watch Bones as he stood up to help Chapel carry out some of the pieces.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you found tribbles absurd?” Kirk whispered, so as not to upset onlookers. “A waste of your time? Overly dramatic and horny bastards?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“The same could be said for how I think of you,” said Bones, still wiping tears from his eyes. “And Horny Bastard was like a <em>son </em>to me,” he added. “Don’t you ever talk about him that way again.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Art pieces were carried through the hallways, some as small as a handheld PADD, others large and multi-faceted. People walked in and out of the observation deck, switching seats with neighbors so that everyone had a better chance of looking at the tribute. Kirk noticed Commodore Kyle presenting a favorite tricorder of his, perhaps as a gift. O’Reilly left a rose.</p><p> </p><p>“An Irish rose,” he whispered to the stars. “To keep you company in the eternal darkness.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
There was a time when various crew members stood before their piers and gave speeches about how the tribbles and touched their hearts, their souls. Kyle stood up and spoke of his beloved tribble, Khan (Kirk questioned the name and the judgment of the person who’d picked it), Chekov (naturally) spoke as well. And so did Uhura, and Scotty, and various people from down in engineering (who apparently didn’t have a lot to look forward to, and were delighted to have the tribbles to keep them company, even if they were clogging the Jeffrey’s Tubes). And, yes, most of those speakers made sense. But of all the people on ship he would have expected to speak at a funeral (a funeral for <em>tribbles </em>no less) Mr. Spock was the very last. Because Sock was logical, and Spock found tribbles illogical, unnerving little beasts (or at the very least, he’d said as much, and though Spock was prone to skirting around his true feelings for things, he wasn’t one to outright lie… actually, well, no, that was a lie, Spock did lie, and he lied often, about everything, just to prove to himself that he could). But still. Spock, of all people, would not speak at a pet’s funeral, no matter how beloved a pet it was.</p><p> </p><p>But then he stood, and he walked to the center of the room, and he cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>And then he began to speak Vulcan.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god-”</p><p> </p><p>“Shush!” Hissed Uhura, kicking Kirk from where she stood on his right. “Let him speak.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“When did you get here?” Whispered Kirk.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Unimportant. Now listen to your boyfriend, you douche.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Though Kirk didn’t know too much Vulcan (he was dating one, yes, but that was a more recent development; besides, they had yet to find the time for lessons) but he’d taken a short course on it at the Academy, and he understood just enough to know what ancient, archaic, emotional pre-Reform funeral rights sounded like.</p><p> </p><p>They sounded like this.</p><p> </p><p>Which wasn’t logical in the slightest, though Spock would surely find a way to argue otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>And even more illogically, Spock was addressing each of the tribbles separately. In turn. He would speak their name (such things were understandable through Vulcan, as names were seldom translatable) and he would address them using the formal tense, and he would treat them like an equal, like a relative. Spock said the name “I-Chaya” and for a moment, Kirk briefly remembered Amanda’s sentiment about the teddy bear (Or whatever it had been) that Spock had known and loved as a child. And he wondered, ever so briefly, what had happened after the poor beast had passed.</p><p> </p><p>He spoke of the bonds he’d shared with the tribbles, the calming effect that they had on him (though he’d initially attempted to deny it), and how close he’d become to those he’d taken under his own wing.</p><p> </p><p>Kirk assumed that if you were to mind meld with a tribble, you’d get nothing but elevator music. Maybe some indication of a high sex drive.</p><p> </p><p>Spock didn’t specify. So Kirk never found out.</p><p> </p><p>Kirk learned through Spock’s speech that he and Bones had shared joint custody over the tribble known as Jim. He and Spock made eye contact at this point in the speech, and nodded solemnly at each other. Kirk realized, for a moment, that he was beginning to feel his coworkers’ pain. He wondered if it was a group hormonal feeding-off-of-each-others-emotions thing (he’d have to ask Bones later; Bones was a doctor, and he knew things, right?) or if he was beginning to genuinely feel for the little beasts.</p><p> </p><p>He told himself that they’d clogged up the replicators. Made transporters malfunction (and the transporters really didn’t need the help, with all the trouble they caused on their own). Told himself they were dangerous, they were an invasive species, they could diminish important food supplies on hundreds of planets if they were allowed to live.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, he began to mourn them, too, as the rest of the crew was.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the ceremonies came to an end. There were speeches and burials and send-offs out into space as a final goodbye. And then, it was over, and time for the mourners to leave. Jim rose out of his seat, accompanied by Uhura and Bones. He watched Bones and Uhura leave with the rest of the crowd. Kirk stayed behind on the observation deck, Spock walking to meet him where he stood. </p><p> </p><p>“I am… curious, Spock,” said Kirk, slowly, as the mourners filed out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Captain?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jim, Spock. You know it’s Jim.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Jim?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What is it that piqued your interest?"</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well,” Kirk said, “when you were speaking during the funeral, you mentioned a deep connection with the tribbles… I needed to know…”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yes?"</p><p> </p><p>“Did you meld with any?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Spock blinked. “As it was we had never encountered them before, not knowing whether or not the could have been a hostile species… and seeing as we had no other means of communicating with them… yes. It seemed most… logical.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well? What did you learn from them?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Not much, Capt- Jim. The tribble I melded with seemed to only have one thing on its mind.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What was it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“A song, resembling one from Earth, popular in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. I believe it is titled ‘Never Gonna Give You Up,’ by Rick Astley.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>:)</p><p>Regarding Translations:<br/>If you are interested in translating or podficcing this work please message me about it in the comments and I'll get back to you with more information as soon as possible.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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